Corruption Interwoven
by TheAzureFox
Summary: To every end, there is a beginning. To every beginning, there is an end. But in a loop so roundabout, there is no discerning the true nature between start and finish. The past, the present, and the future all intertwine into one single source that, upon corruption, can change the destiny of everything. (FE: Awakening retelling)


A/N: As mentioned before, here is my take on FE: Awakening. It's actually one of my favorite games and, despite it's inconsistency at explaining things in depth (Valm war, Lucina's method of time travel aside from Naga's influence, Robin's memories before s/he gained amnesia, why the kids didn't seek out the Shepherds when they full well knew that's who their parents were apart of, etc, etc…), I found it quite enjoyable. The characters all have their likable quirks and the plot, though slightly predictable in the beginning, spun into quite the entertainment. Regardless, I wanted to improve on the storyline slightly. Things aren't guaranteed to an extreme difference like with my Fates fic, but there will be slight changes and more impactful relationships between the characters. Three main point of views will dominate the narrative but others will have their chance to 'speak', so to say.

With that done and said, I believe it's time to continue onwards with the story.

Enjoy it!

…

Prologue: The Beginning of an End

Lucina approached the Dragon's Table with her sword at her side and her breath caught in her throat. It was massive, a long spire of rock and stone that jutted out from the midst of desert ruins and stood hovering like a giant. A dark aura had overtaken it, coiling and bathing it with light that made her own heart tremble. Behind them, the low moans of those enslaved followed, their eerie voices of worship tugging at her fears and anxieties.

Ahead of her, her father's army marched to the stone tower. They were unaware of her presence, moving with only the thought of what lie ahead instead of who followed them. She knew they wouldn't approve of her being there, what with her being only a newly fledged adult, but she couldn't help it. Lucina was _worried._ This was her father's final battle, yes, but to have as much at stake as they did and to risk it all in one fight…she just couldn't explain the reason for her trembling lip or her shaking hands. There was something, _something_ that just felt completely wrong. Maybe it was the eyes she felt glued upon her back or the unshakeable presence of something dark and ancient, but to have traveled so far behind the Shepherds and to not have provoked a single hidden enemy felt odd. Lucina was sure, so sure, that the enemy would swarm her. She, unlike the rest of her father's army, was alone and without companions yet, unlike them, she had not encountered a single enemy.

It agitated a single question on her mind.

 _Why?_

Why was the enemy ignoring her? Why had they not yet sent those Naga-forsaken creatures - the ones that rose like haunted corpses from the darkness - after her? She was perhaps a target of pure royalty and her capture would consider the opposing army as having the upper hand. Her father didn't even know she was trailing him and if she was abducted, she was sure he'd do anything to bargain for her. And, while she knew her pursuit of the army was stupid and more a will of her selfishness than anything else, she couldn't shake off the fact that the enemy was missing - no, _ignoring_ \- a golden opportunity.

Lucina's hands shook, fingers wrapping tightly around her silver sword's hilt. The feeling of worry wrapped deeper into her as she followed. What was it? What was it? _What was it?_ What was going to happen? What was she to do? What was wrong with her? What was she _thinking_? To risk her own life for curiosity, for the feelings of forebode that tugged at her gut, the belief of insanity was entering her mind. For her, a girl who almost never left her father's castle, to be out in the middle of a desert, trailing an army unaware of her pursuit in hopes of quelling the anxieties within her, it was just _so weird_ and _out of character_ for her _._

"Alright!" her father's voice sounded as their army settled around the base of the Dragon's Table. "This is our final battle!"

A round of cheers went up and Lucina could tell the morale of their army was higher than it had ever been. The hope that blossomed from the man's words was enough to send even Lucina smiling, her irrational thoughts bleeding away. Perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps everything would go all right and, in the end, they'd all get their happily-ever-afters'.

Her father continued when they quieted down. "We must reclaim the Emblem, take back what Validar has stolen from us and slay the man before he can summon the world's end!" More cheers. More yowls of approval. "Now is the time to take action, to settle the dead into their graves! Everyone who has sacrificed their lives for this cause, shall now be avenged! We will create an end to this war and bring their spirits to rest. Now, who's with me?"

The army raised their weapons in answer, creating a display of lances and swords and spears and bows and tomes that stood suspended in the air. Lucina raised her own sword in agreement, a smile of joy tugging at her lips.

Her father, spurred on by their reactions, shoved open the doors to the tower and led himself in. His army paused for just the briefest of seconds before following, the rally of a war cry following behind him. Lucina took to following them, hiding behind the many remains of stone ruins before traversing stealthily across the glaring sand and over to where the doors stood opened. She slid behind a thin slab of stonewall before peeking her head out to see the last of the army scrambling inside. When the last man had succeeded in entering, Lucina took it upon herself to dash inside and secure a hiding position. She found one behind an iron pillar, back leaned up against the black structure. She glanced around it, gaze scanning the area warily.

Unlike what she had expected, no enemies stood to intercept them. Only a long and stretched-out hallway of multi-colored marble met the army, pillars much like the one she stood behind lining the corridor. A dais of darkened color, surrounded by rings of red and gold and green, stood with a glowing item on top of it. Lucina recognized it as the Emblem her father had mentioned. However, unlike when she had seen it before, a dark purple mist sprouted up and around it, generating the same energy that the outside of the tower held.

A man with a long neck approached her father. Eyes the color of rubies scanned the man lazily, a grin fitting of a lunatic placed upon his features. The man – Validar – spoke something to her father. The conversation didn't reach her but Lucina felt herself shudder nonetheless. She knew the man as a snake, as a creature whose mere words could be more fitting for poison than for communication. She had only seen the man once before a long, long time ago, but the mere memory of him sent her into a bout of trembling.

Someone shouted and Validar scowled at the interruption, raising a hand. The tips of the man's fingers became dipped in purple and, a second afterwards, a barrier of dark energy cut across where her father stood where his army lingered. In an instant, Lucina realized that Validar had successfully isolated her father from his army. She sucked in a deep breath, terror pulsing through her veins. She couldn't understand why, but she knew it was all over.

Her father's army, however, did not. They pounded on the force field, fists barreling upon the dark mahogany surface and magic spells bursting off of it. Lances and swords stabbed into the barrier, sharp tips digging into it while arrows bounced harmlessly off and showered down to the ground. Lucina wanted to join them, to pound upon the reddish aura and to shout to her father and to warn him of the danger that was digging at her mind but restrained herself. She couldn't do anything. She just _knew_ she couldn't do anything. Even as the others shouted and pleaded and tried to break down the magical wall, she knew it was of no use.

An unknown emotion weaved its way into her heart and she found herself near the brink of tears. Her eyes became smeared with the liquid, everything blurring together and into one mess of fuzz. Lucina was on the verge of sobbing. She felt hopeless, so hopeless, and even as the corpses of the dead spawned around her, it took all she could just to raise her sword and fight.

One of the creatures attacked her with a magic spell and she felt her shoulder burn with blisters. Lucina faltered and her sword missed the bloodied monster, falling down to the ground and catching on the marble floor. She looked up at the mage, heart beating as flames sprouted from the book in his hands and proceeded towards her.

A man leaped in the way of the fireball and deflected it with a swipe of his sword. He recognized her and his mouth curved downward. "Lucina?" he said questionably. "What are you doing here?"

"I…," she paused to hurriedly wipe away the evidence of her emotions from her eyes. "I…followed you."

"Followed us?" he echoed, sword slashing through the mage's corpse and sending it into oblivion. "I never noticed you."

"I followed from a distance," she replied softly, her silver sword slicing through a wyvern rider. "But, never mind me. Is father alright?"

The man watched her warily as she approached him, sword swinging at the multitudes of corpses surrounding them. She kept her distance and he seemed to appreciate it, protecting her backside while she did the same with his. He plunged his sword into another mage and risked her a glance. "Your mother and father are on the other side of the barrier," he grunted. "I don't think we can break it."

She nodded. "I didn't think so, either. I mean, I want to help them but, as it stands…"

"It's impossible," he nodded back in understanding. "Everyone in the Shepherds would risk their lives for your father. It's not a matter of us not being able to help him so much as our faith in him. He is strong and your mother is strong. No matter what comes over them, I'm sure they will make it."

 _And I'm sure they won't,_ a little voice murmured in Lucina's mind. She ignored it and the worries that accompanied it; her sword intertwining with the man's to destroy a pair of mercenary corpses. Still, she couldn't help but mutter "I hope so" as she turned her sights upon the next opposing target. She slashed and hacked until the rotting figure evaporated and readily sought a new enemy. She repeated the process every time an adversary fell, relying on the man beside her for support.

Eventually, somewhere between the felling of a rotting mage and a burning cleric, something burst and bright light instantly blinded her eyes. The monsters in front of them paused, heads twisted at unnatural angles as they faced the source of the distraction. Lucina followed their gazes, as did the man beside her, squinting until the brilliance faded into distinct shapes that her eyes could actually pick up on.

Her breath caught in her throat and a prickling sensation met the corner of her eyes. In front of her, where the barrier of reddish darkness had disappeared, a single man's body laid crumpled on the ground. Crimson was everywhere, splattering the marble floors, painting the dais behind him, and wetting his beloved off-white cape. Neither Validar nor her mother were to be seen, both gone in place of the one they had left behind. Lucina nearly screamed, rushing to her father's side with eyes wide and disbelief streaming its way down her cheeks. The man who had fought beside her paused, unsure of how to proceed, but did not follow her when she abandoned him for the man with the cape.

"Father?" she called, kneeling down beside the bloodstained man. "Father? Father! Please, wake up!"

The man before her refused to do so, laying as limp as he had been when the barrier lifted. Slowly, she was aware of others surrounding her. Someone, a blond lady, held up a staff and proceeded to try and heal her father. However, even after a few attempts, the woman was unable to do anything. The wounds on his chest did not heal. The blood on his body did not disappear. His expression of total shock and horror did not adjust to relief or to life like it should have done.

The blonde woman leaned down beside Lucina and placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. "I'm sorry," she whispered, voice choked with emotion. "I'm so sorry. He's gone."

Lucina nodded numbly, hands grabbing those of her father's. She held the limb to her cheeks, ignoring the hot stream of wetness that escaped from her eyes. Her lips trembled, her body shook, and she could only sob as her father's hand fell to the ground, cold and lifeless.

In a moment of mourning, she picked up the sword by his side. It was a silver and gold sword of legend, the sword of her ancestors, and she silently made it a promise to right everything that had gone wrong.

Meanwhile, a black creature rose up from the tower and into the skies above. Three pairs of eyes glowed and two pairs of wings sprouted from its backside. The monster turned its attention to the ground where, below, dozens of ant-sized creatures panicked under the brutal actions of its loyal servants.

"So ends the human race," it mused quietly. "This is the time of destruction and, as I shall will it, the death of the Exalted Ones."

Then, the beast disappeared.

In its wake, a lone figure gazed outside a rain-stained castle and grinned, bloodstained fingers tapping idly on the windowsill.

The apocalypse was upon them.

...

Chrom guided his mount over the hill and paused on the top of it, gaze looking down in thoughtful consideration. Beside him, a knight and a cleric followed, each on top of their own horse and each carrying the same attentive air he did.

"Milord," the knight said. "Are you sure the reports are right? I don't see any brigands anywhere."

"I'm sure of what the old man said, Frederick," he answered back calmly. "And he was quite confident of it, too."

"But are you sure we weren't conned into this? What if the brigands were actually planning to lure you out here and then launch an attack on the other provinces in your absence? If both you and the Capitol's men are far away from their place of attack then it would only be natural for them to attack and loot the villages while they are unprotected."

"I am well aware of that, yes. But I don't feel like that's quite the case here." Chrom's horse shook its head and he patted it absent-mindedly. The mount glanced back at him, snorted, and then returned its gaze longingly to the grassy plains in front of it. Feeling sympathetic to the creature, Chrom slid off it and removed the bridle from its head. "There you go," he said, urging her forward. "Go and eat to your heart's content, you deserve it."

The horse, as if sensing his intentions, stepped forward eagerly and down the hill, only pausing when it reached halfway between the grassy field in front of them and the village even farther ahead. It bent down its head and nibbled on the shoots, tail flicking away flies and face rather relaxed for an animal. Chrom watched it with caution, hands still clasping the bridle.

Frederick's eyes trailed after the white creature. "Are you sure that it is wise to let her go right now?" he asked.

"As long as nothing spooks her, I'm sure we'll be fine," he waved off the concern. "Let her rest; it's been a long day for all of us."

"True that," the girl from beside him said, tilting her neck back and forth before stretching her arms out. "I think I'm saddle sore from all that riding around! We haven't gotten off our horses for _days!_ "

Chrom laughed at her exasperation. "We were off of them yesterday, remember? You went around chasing all the little children while we adults talked with the local village residents."

As if sensing his teasing, she crossed her arms and pouted. "I'm an adult too, y'know." She mumbled. "It's just, doing adult things your way isn't my style. I prefer to lighten things up and instead of going around and talking to some old bats!"

"If Emm heard you she'd give you a serious reprimanding, Lissa."

The blonde girl faltered. "Well, yeah, but…she's not here. So! There! I can't get scolded at all."

"Milady, I'd like to suggest otherwise," Frederick scoffed. "Certainly, I could scold you in her place if I preferred."

"Ugh, no, your lectures are the _worse_. Last time you scolded someone – poor Vaike – you sent him off to do one thousand push-ups!"

"And?"

" _And_ , that is not a lecture that is _torture!_ "

"One thousand push-ups leads to significant advancement of both the mind and spirit," he replied curtly.

"Is that what you said when Vaike threatened you with an axe to the head?" Chrom grinned at the man.

"That's what I said to him when he refused to do even one, Milord. That man complains about not having enough to do but when I finally give him something, he protests and says he has better things to do. In all honesty, I worry for his future."

"His head is in the right place," Chrom shrugged. "But his attitude is not."

Frederick sighed in agreement. "That is also true. But, then again, it seems like all the Shepherds are like that."

"Even me?" the blue-haired man inquired, eyebrows raised.

"You are an exception."

"Then so is everyone else, Frederick. All our heads are in the right place and all our attitudes are different, but we are all exceptions in our own rights. You can't exclude me from them all just because I'm a little rich."

"A little?" Lissa scoffed but was shut silent by Frederick. She whistled and looked away, her gaze scanning the field below. "Uh…Chrom?" she inquired after a short pause.

He turned to his sister. "What is it?"

"I don't think your horse has moved an inch since we started this conversation…"

Chrom turned from his sister to his mount below finding that, indeed, she was right. When he last remembered seeing the white creature, he remembered gazing at it by a patch of violets. Now, it still stood by the very same patch, head bent and nudging into something. Worried, Chrom began to descend the hill. Lissa and Frederick followed him, equally curious.

"Did your horse find something?" Lissa asked quietly.

"I think so," was her brother's soft reply.

"A brigand?" Frederick asked. "It could be a trap."

Chrom shook his head. "I don't see anyone else. Do you?"

The armored man glanced around and, defeated, shook his head. "I do not."

"Then we can assume that whatever's ahead is probably safe."

"…If you say so, Milord." Frederick pulled back from their group and remained in place. Chrom glanced at him, confused. "I will stay here and keep an eye out," he told the blue-haired man. "It's safer that way."

"Right, thank you," Chrom dipped his head and continued towards his horse. Lissa followed him, approaching at his pace rather than speeding ahead on her own mount.

They went carefully, slowly, made aware by Frederick's warnings. However, as the target of interest became clearer and clearer, their regard for caution faltered.

"Chrom, is that…is that a person?" Lissa inhaled sharply, gaze following upon the darkened shape that sat in front of Chrom's horse. "Are they sleeping?"

"In this field?" Chrom's eyebrows pinched together. "What kind of fool would do such a thing?"

The blonde pigtailed girl slid off her mount, staff in hand. "Maybe they're hurt?" she suggested. "If the brigands caught them and left them for dead then I'm certain they must be badly injured."

"…Maybe," Chrom reached his horse and urged the creature away. His steed obliged, backing away as Chrom stared down at the person below.

The first thing he noticed was the cloak. It was such a fine fabric of cotton dyed in a dark, dark gray and a garment that Chrom found to his instant liking. The color spread over the figure's body, cloaking everything but her pants, shirt, hands and face. Purple eyes crawled up the sleeves while the violet hood lay sprawled out underneath long locks of strawberry blonde. Golden cords ran all the way up and down the outfit, drawing together the collar and pulling together the sides of the cloak until the white shirt beneath was only partially showing.

The second thing he noticed was the person's face. Feminine in structure and young in appearance, Chrom estimated that the woman in front of him was nearly the same age he was. The man also supposed she could have been younger, but he was more concerned with her health than he was with her looks. She was breathing, that much was obvious through the sight of her moving chest, but she was tossing and turning and whispering something that he couldn't quite understand. Puzzled, he leaned in closer.

Her mumbling grew louder, rapider, as if sensing his presence near her own. Lissa tugged on his cape, her desperate insistence persuading him of her fear, but he leaned forward regardless, tugged on by idle curiosity. The words the woman spoke…it sounded like she was saying something important, something that demanded his attention, something that-

"Chrom!"

Like lightning, the woman's hand shot out to grab his collar. Her eyes flashed wide open, distorted with the color of the twilight sky, before she looked up at him with a face of tortured sadism. "Prince of Ylisse," she spoke. "Prepare yourself, for everything that you know is about to end."

And then she collapsed into his arms, resting yet again.

Chrom fell to his knees, shaking and trembling and shivering with a fear unknown.

"What," he asked, "was that?"

And the woman slept on.


End file.
